


Hold me until morning (and never let go)

by origamixravens



Category: Supernatural
Genre: I'm Sorry, M/M, Mark of Cain, season 10, season 10 Supernatural, very sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-01
Updated: 2015-05-01
Packaged: 2018-03-26 14:18:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3853852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/origamixravens/pseuds/origamixravens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas wakes up from a nightmare in the middle of the night; and a familiar pair of arms are there to hold him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold me until morning (and never let go)

He wakes suddenly; chest heaving, the blankets sticking to him as a result of the sweat breaking out all over his body.

 

Cas pulls himself into a sitting position, pressing his hot back against the cool wood of the motel headboard. He draws his knees up to his chest, and presses the palms of his hands into his eye sockets; trying desperately to rub away the images of blackened grass and vessels lying burnt out in the halls of heaven.

 

But the dreams won’t stop, and he can’t sleep; not with the dying screams of his brothers and sisters ringing in his ears, the faces of their vessels twisted into grotesque masks of horror; the fierce light of dying grace shining in their eyes.

 

And just when Cas thinks he will drown in the horror and guilt of his past sins, he feels a warm and familiar pair of arms wrap around his waist and draw him close. 

 

“Sh...” Dean whispers into his hair, as he pulls him close; between the sheets and further into the endless embrace of his arms. 

 

“Its alright Cas; its alright. Its all done. You've done your penance.” 

 

Even after all these years, Cas is still surprised that Dean can read him so easily; that with a simple glance, he can tell what Cas is thinking and what he is feeling. That in the darkness of this room, Dean can hear the muffled whimpers that stem from the images Cas can see in his dreams; and know exactly what they are about.

 

“Its ok Cas; I’m here. I’m here.”                                          

 

Castiel wraps his own arms around Dean’s waist, and lets the other man draw him ever closer. He keeps his eyes shut tight, and gently places his head in the small space between the righteous man’s arm and upper torso; the place that has become the fallen angel’s sanctuary on night’s like this.

 

“Go to sleep Cas. Stop thinking about heaven.”

 

Cas shakes his head, brushing his nose against the side of Dean’s rib cage in the process.

 

“I can’t. My guilt; its so heavy Dean. How can I possibly stop thinking about heaven; about everything I’ve done?”

 

He can hear Dean sigh, and Cas suddenly feels as if he has no right to urge his own burden onto his righteous man’s shoulders. His own burden is heavy enough; and it has not been placed there fairly. Castiel’s burden is heavy with the guilt of his sins; Dean’s is heavy with the sins of mankind.

 

But Dean does not yell or scoff or push him away; he does not reject the burden that makes Cas’ knees buckle and heart break. Instead, he takes it; gently and cautiously and lovingly, from Cas’ tired shoulders; and shares the pain.

 

Instead, the righteous man presses a kiss into the fallen angel’s hair, and whispers lovingly into his ear,

 

“Then don’t. Think of something else.”

 

“Think of me.”

 

And Cas can feel him; sliding the weight from his shoulders, and onto his own. The pressure on his back is far from gone; but is lighter, not quite as heavy. Still a burden; but a little less harder to bear. 

 

Cas can feel himself slipping away into the quite depths of peaceful sleep, and Cas knows he will be alright, as long as his righteous man is there when he wakes.

 

 

 

But when he wakes, he wakes alone.

 

And for a moment, while his mind is still drowsy, and his mouth feels full of dry cotton; he is confused. His fingers reach out for the warmth he so desperately needs; and suddenly, they freeze.

 

For they remember, before he does, that they will not find what they are looking for.

 

Cas bolts upright suddenly, taking in everything around him; the peeling wallpaper of the cheap motel room, the faded yellow lamp on the nightstand beside him, the tan trench coat thrown haphazardly to the ground at the foot of the bed. But especially the much too large queen size bed, and the empty space beside him.

 

And he cries bitter tears; bitterer than they have been in all the six months since he had lost the loving warmth his traitorous fingers have been seeking for every morning since.

 

He cries bitter tears for the righteous man with the heavy burden of the sins of humankind on his shoulder.

 

For the righteous man, though righteous that he is; had been warped beyond human, beyond _saving_ , by the mark of the father of murder, into a thing neither he, nor his brother, nor even Castiel wanted to recognize.

 

For Dean Winchester; who had turned into the very thing he had never wanted to be…

 

( _“Look at me; I’m a monster!”_

 

_“No Dean, no. Never!”_

 

_“I can’t live like this…”_

 

_“Dean, please…”_

 

_“I can’t live like this!”_

 

_“Damn it Dean, we can fix this!”_

 

 _“Cas… I’m beyond broken…”_ )

 

…And had died thinking it.

 

Castiel cries bitter tears for the righteous man that was, and for the righteous man that is no more.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Also posted to tumblr @ https://www.tumblr.com/blog/starsshinefordestiel


End file.
